


This darkness will last

by looneytails (mixthealphabet)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Dark Percy, F/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Tumblr Prompt, though not really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3548351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixthealphabet/pseuds/looneytails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth thinks he will never hurt her. Percy hopes that she's right.</p><p>I was prompted on tumblr: Dark Percy, PTSD, Annabeth comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This darkness will last

Dark water surrounds him from all sides, cold and dense and ominous in its calmness. It floods his lungs, fills his throat. There is no warmth in the sensation; it burns white, cold and sour.

He claws at his neck, desperate to get rid of the pressure, but this is not something he can control.

Percy Jackson is drowning.

When he opens his eyes once again, Misery is standing there, at the edge of the cliff, surrounded by pools of venom. Her eyes well up with tears that cannot be shed, and her face bloats up. She, too, is dying.

The ghoul bends over, coughing and struggling to breathe. When she looks up, it’s the face of Medusa that he sees.

Her eyes are hard and dull, but the serpents of her hair hiss at him. The rage in their movements brings forth a memory he’d almost forgotten: he’d killed her.

 _No_ , he tries to tell himself, _I was just protecting myself_.

But isn’t that what they all say? Murderers seldom believe themselves to be wrong; they are always the good guys inside their minds.

The pressure in his chest grows, and the pain makes it difficult to concentrate.

Above everything, Percy feels wetness run down his nose, then his chin. He looks down to see a single red drop hit the ground, just before everything starts to shake.

 _Inside me, this is not water_ , he realizes with a start, _it’s blood_.

There are giants everywhere now, but his gaze wafts through them and focuses on three winged figures that are suddenly towering over him. They cackle manically, snapping their yellow fangs.

Alecto moves forward, and her glowing eyes carry the promise of hell.

This time, the gods aren’t coming.

“Die, honey!”

Percy charges at the same time she does. He swings Riptide across her throat and the Fury falls, but the effort is like a blow to the stomach. He drops to the ground on his knees, head bowed, bones heavy as lead.

 _Kill them_ , it’s the only things that he registers, _Kill them. Kill them_.

Still, darkness claws its way into Percy’s vision, blurring the enemies, slowing him down. Not even his wrath can save him now.

A hand curls around his shoulder and the boy turns to strike, to make his last stand. Something about that touch feels different, however, lighter, and a blaring alarm sounds at his ears.

When Percy comes to himself, he’s laying down on his bed, eyes closed. Annabeth has a hand to his right shoulder and she holds his struggling self down.

He can breathe again, but his body trembles with an anger that just won’t subside.

“Concentrate on my voice, Percy,” his girlfriend says. Even though he knows she is trying to keep her tone steady, there is a shivery aspect to the sway of her body. “Breath in, then out. With me.”

He imitates her slow rhythm until he can finally open his eyes.

Riptide is sticking from the wall of his cabin, glinting in the sunlight that filters through the window.

Percy feels his entire body shudder.

“I could have killed you.”

Annabeth lifts her hand to smooth out the creases of his frown, and the fondness in her steel-gray eyes almost makes everything ok.

“No, you really can’t.”

She kisses him then, deeply, climbing onto his lap and weaving her hands through his hair.

Percy thinks of how aware he is of her, of how much he loves her and of how much he is in love with her. He thinks of the dream and of what made him miss that strike, the feeling that made him physically incapable of doing Annabeth harm.

And he hopes that she is right.

“I hate them,” Percy mutters into her neck, an hour later. “I wish I could kill them all.”

Annabeth’s grip on his arm tightens.

“I know.” She exhales. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr as looneytails.


End file.
